


Truth And Beauty

by IndigoSaber



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoSaber/pseuds/IndigoSaber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader POV, the tale of an atypical woman in Middle Earth who behaves in less than typical ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been months since you’d seen anything resembling civilization. It had been so long, in fact, that the trees and endless trails had become more welcoming than any warm hearth in your memory. There was no disputing it was hard work, but it was freedom. The closest any common born woman could ever come to it, at least. There was honor in it too, as you were not some poor wanderer, but a trader with a business to run- a business you’d built from the meager funds of your long passed parents and managed even to turn a profit within the first year. If that too wasn’t freedom, you didn’t know what was.

This newest foray was unlike anything you’d planned before, though it certainly wasn’t your first trip into the wilderness. Laketown was farther than you’d ever gone and not the safest of destinations to pursue, but you were of sterner stock than most common men. You’d grown in the hills and vales of Northern Gondor. If anyone could take unpredictable weather and few comforts of home, it was you.

The promise of elven wine and dwarven relics for your shop were too fine a prospect to pass up. It wasn’t as though you couldn’t order such things and have them brought to you, it was the principle of the matter. Paying another man coin to bring what you could fetch yourself would never sit well, and paying shipment for so far a trip would surely cost more than any possible profit. So here you were, nearly half a year into a journey with your pack horses and guides, wondering if any man had traveled these paths before you, for you’d certainly seen none.

“Are we certain we’ve turned down the right fork in this so called ‘road’ of yours?” you asked for what must have been the fourth time that afternoon.

You were not an unreasonable woman, in fact you’d hired guides for the sheer fact that you knew you didn’t know everything. But these woods were getting darker by the minute…and you were certain your group would have seen signs of life so close to the infamous elven realms close by. Of course you’d never seen Elves or anything of their lands, so you likely wouldn’t know even if you were looking at it…

“I’m not going to answer that.” your chief guide and life long friend Hamblin answered, his voice grim and strained.  
He likely deserved a bonus when all this was through, you thought. And maybe a permanent raise in pay. Anyone who could put up with you deserved to be compensated, not even you bothered arguing it at this point.

“I’m not saying we’re lost…” you said finally, having let at least what felt like an hour pass in amiable silence before you brought up the topic again.

His patched glove raised in a motion for silence and for a small moment your annoyance flared to life at yet another male seeking to silence your opinion. Then, the feeling of being watched stole over your body, sending chills of impending danger down your spine and your protest died in your throat. Your fingers drifted slow and careful toward the sword at your hip. That was when you heard it, the strange chittering of something large, several somethings, moving in the trees above. Fear flared to ugly and vibrant life in your veins, forbidding you from looking up as every horror story you’d ever heard of these woods filled your mind with grotesque visions of your imminent death.

“Spiders!” Hamblin yelled, your small company pulling their weapons free.

You were quick to follow, too much common sense in your head to let your fingers tremble as you raised your blade and at last dared a look toward the sky. They were everywhere at once, above, beside, attacking, weaving webbing that was nearly too thick to cut through with your far too dainty lady’s weapon. You cursed your need to hold to some form of femininity, surely a man’s sword would not have had such issue, but you had needed something pretty. Wanted it, smelling of the road and in breeches, to remember first and foremost, you were a woman. A lot of good that did you now.

With a cry you swung and buried your blade across the eyes of the nearest beast, all thoughts of fear and death fading to the background. There was only the monster now, and you, and your desire to bury your blade deep in it a second time…and you did. Again and again you faced the ugly things as they charged, and by the end of it, panting and unharmed, you were most alarmed to find you did not feel any different.

‘Still Tallis.’ you thought. Not some shieldmaiden of legend, nor a simpering maiden. Just Tallis. As stubborn and unimportant as always you had been.

It was odd how comforting you found it.

“Tallis!” Hamblin called out, breaking you from your thoughts as he came scrambling toward you over the many hacked off limbs and crumpled corpses within the clearing.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his southern brogue gruff and nearly sounding panicked as he came near.

You couldn’t help yourself, some manic hilarity taking hold in the wake of the rush of your first real fight.

“My, Hamblin, you almost sound worried. I’m tempted to say no to see if you’ll rescue me.”  
The older man’s ears turned as red as his cheeks as he flashed a stern expression and coughed.

“She’s alright lads.” he called out, sheathing his sword with a grumble before returning to the horses.

You grinned, as any reaction from the stoic Hamblin was well worth the effort. The rest of the afternoon spent cleaning weapons and supplies, it was well past dark by the time camp had been set. The lone fire sparked and crackled as your company huddled around it, backs to the warmth as all watched for further signs of trouble.

You awoke in the morning to the cries of the dying. It was chaos pure and simple, the worst kind you’d yet witnessed. It only took one whiff of the air to know it’s source and your stomach dropped and protested angrily all at once. Orcs. Anyone within the free lands of Middle Earth knew the stench of their kind. Knew the sound and the coming nightmare. You’d no sooner ripped your sword free of it’s scabbard than they were upon you, gutteral screeches making your ears ring and eyes water.

In an earlier time you would have swung wildly, fear taking hold. But yesterday’s battle had changed you after all, and though you were never the sort to flee, it would seem you were harder now than you had been. Teeth clenched you stabbed and slashed as you were taught, each move flowing with practiced grace. The only thing that was different from your childhood practice duels was that now you fought an orc, and the difference was important enough to keep you from hesitating.

There were too many someone was shouting to you across the makeshift battlefield and for one absurd moment, you nearly disagreed. Surely you’d killed enough all on your own to even things a little, let alone what the seasoned fighters had slain? But that infernal common sense reared, telling you this was no time for arrogance. People were dying, whether orc or man. If someone said the odds were against you, you needed to listen. You gave a nod toward the voice you finally recognized as Hamblin’s and noted distantly the call for retreat was given. You were not a stupid woman and never had been. For once, you listened to Hamblin without arguing. You ran.

You couldn’t be sure how long you ran or how much ground you covered. You ran until your chest was screaming and your heart was hammering so hard it beat in your ears. If the orcs had given chase, you wouldn’t have heard them. And if they had followed, you were so tired by then you would’ve considered yourself a well earned meal. Falling to your knees, your fingers dug into the dark soil, moss squeezed between your blood stained fingers. Your friends were nowhere to be seen and you knew deep down, it was unlikely all of them had been so lucky. A pain gripped your chest and you cried, the grief and tragedy of the day too deep to leave your mouth in more than one strangled gasp after another. Some of those men you’d known your entire life. Hamblin had helped your father raise you after your mother passed and though you’d seen none of them die, that same common sense within you didn’t allow you to hope for their survival.

A strange numbness stole over you then, your sobbing having left you feeling hollow and raw. It was so strange how everything could go wrong within a day. How lives could be changed or end entirely in so little time and with so little warning. You pulled your knees to your chest, clutching them tightly as you curled into the base of a tree. For a small moment you wished for your own end, knowing that being cut down by an orc blade couldn’t possibly hurt more than wandering these dark woods lost and alone until you starved. And it was in those dour thoughts that sleep came, sending you into a series of dark dreams that were full of pain and sorrow.

When you awoke in the early morning it was to the same mood and same lack of hope. For a long while you sat there, wondering what exactly you should do before rising and doing your best to retrace your steps. If you could find the scene of the battle, at least then you’d have your answer. For good or bad, knowing for certain was better. But by midday you were no closer to having answers, and if by some chance you were near, the trees were so thick and you had run so blindly the day before that you couldn’t be sure. Another hour’s exploration proved only that you were in fact, more lost than you had been. These were not the same woods you had been travelling through, you were certain of that at least. Their branches had a more sinister, sickly look…and even though you made note of your surroundings, you couldn’t be sure which direction you headed. Every tree somehow felt the same, and for a woman who had grown within the woodlands and forests of her homeland, that was an alarming thought.

It was in this fashion you came across a clearing, the trees giving way at last to soft grasses and beyond that, a small lake, fed by a stream that by the sound of it, expanded to a river somewhere beyond the opposite treeline. It smelled fresh here, not constricting or old like the rest of the forest. You sucked in your first lungful of clear air and couldn’t help but smile. Looking about and seeing no signs of life in the light of the full moon, you nearly skipped to the water, spirits high for what felt like the first time in an age. It really was silly how much the prospect of a bath cheered the heart of a woman, you thought with some chagrin. But to be rid of the orc blood and spider innards, and the stench that accompanied them would be a gift from the Creator.

The water was frigid, but a daughter of the mountains, you were used to such things and nearly relished the bracing cold as you shed your garments and let the water cover you. For a small moment you forgot the dangers of the world around you, the nightmare of the past few days and your current predicament as you scrubbed the gore away. Beneath the grime was pale skin and a pretty-ish face that although would inspire no songs, had gotten you far enough in your youth to prove adequate to your needs. You were a trader after all, you didn’t need songs or romance. You had work to do. Still, you stopped to look at the face rippling on the surface. The supple appearance of youth had begun to fade, full cheeks pulling back across the same angular cheek bones as your father, giving you a harsh look even when smiling. Whatever beauty you might have held, it was clear age was wearing it away, though you’d only seen some thirty seasons.

You stood then, letting the water run down your body and taking the last remnants of battle with it. There were more important things than beauty, you thought. Like staying alive. You looked up and across the water..and directly into the eyes of another being, crouched low by the opposite shoreline. He stood, never breaking eye contact as you stood there in shock, his brilliant eyes flashing pale and noticeably blue even in the night. He was tall and more beautiful than any man you’d yet seen, straw colored hair falling free about a perfectly sculpted face. For one moment that felt much too long to be proper, you could only stand there, too shocked by his appearance to move in spite of your nakedness.

Then, swearing loudly, you trudged quickly to your side of the shore. Ripping your shirt over your wet body, you turned to level a glare worthy of a war cry at the man- only to find he was nowhere to be seen.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been hard to sleep that night, all thoughts of safety and comfort gone and cursing yourself silently for having let your guard down in so blaringly obvious a dangerous place. The woods were not fit places for baths. Not fit places to forget where you were or what you were doing and you had surely paid a price in one way or another. Yet whoever he was, you hadn’t seen him again that night or the next morning. Perhaps he’d been as alarmed as you were to run across a naked lady in the middle of what appeared to be an uninhabited forest. Maybe he thought you an angry spirit or at the least, a witch. You hoped you were so lucky. Still, in spite of such hopes, you slept with sword in hand for the next two nights. You hadn’t had much luck so far, and there was no point in taking chances.

An uneasy routine fell in place of wandering the woods, eating what little you could scavenge and discern to be edible. You hadn’t made a mistake in that regard yet, which you supposed must actually mean you still possessed some luck, for a mistake like that would have been fatal. Days passed and your strength had begun to fade. Whatever secrets these woods held, you began to curse them. You were no threat to anyone, it seemed incredibly unjust you would be lost to such a fate and you found yourself often mumbling that same sentiment aloud as though the trees themselves would hear and grant mercy.

The days began to run together and last you counted, five of them had passed since the incident at the lake and you’d not had a sip of fresh water since. You were dying and you knew it. Laying down in a space between the roots of a great tree, you stared up at the canopy, ready for another restless night and the pointless day to come. Your eyes drifted closed and you mumbled a hoarse ungrateful prayer to whatever deity might be listening to kindly stuff their values and lessons some place undignified. They’d never been any use to you anyway and no prayer you’d ever uttered had yet been answered.

A chuckle sounded close by and you sat up straight, eyes wide as you looked about. Before you on what would appear to be a path you hadn’t seen moments before, stood that same impossibly tall man, flanked on either side by armored men similar in coloring and appearance. They seemed to glow in the moonlight, their eyes bright and shining in the night as they came forward. You found yourself moving backward against the tree in spite of, or perhaps because of, their otherworldly beauty. If this was the escort to the halls of your ancestors, you were fairly certain you weren’t yet ready to go. Then, as the absurdity of that thought faded, you realized at last what you were looking at.

“You’re elves.” you said softly, your voice full of unabashed childlike wonder.

You’d heard stories most of your youth about elves, every mortal child had. Elves- the fair folk, magical beings of endless beauty and immense power and here you were, being helped to your feet by two of them while facing a third…and it was the third who captured your attention. He was unmistakably the same one who had watched you at the lake, you decided, and he watched you now with the same unreadable expression.

“That we are.” he said finally, his voice smooth and deep.

You wanted to say something intelligent, something grateful for the wineskin being offered or the careful and respectful examination of your vitals one of the armored men was conducting. Anything to show you weren’t useless or somehow lacking in wit enough to be undeserving of rescue. Yet all that came out was-

“oh.”

The elf man smiled, his pale eyes seeming to shine with something lighter than the fierce intensity you’d seen at the lake. With a meaningful glance to both his men, he turned, long robes swirling in a flurry of fine fabric about his ankles before he strode away. Firm yet gentle arms took hold of you on either side and with wordless but kind smiles, the armored elves guided you after him, offering their strength in place of your own. It was more kindness than you’d dared pray for, and to your shame, you felt your eyes watering at the courtesy and care of strangers. Things were not so kind amongst the lives of men, not even amongst kin at times. It would seem the tales about that part of the elves at least, were true.

It was a long walk. Wherever it was the path led, you would forever remember how long it felt and how surprised you were that the sky was still dark when you reached your destination. Great gates spread before you and beyond, a grand cavern shaped and lit to resemble a great hall. It was magnificent and if you weren’t already too exhausted to speak, it would have left you speechless. The lead elf turned back for a moment, watching you in silence as you stared in dumbfounded awe around you. You met his eyes for a moment and offered a weak smile, too tired to comment on the incredible beauty of what you assumed was his home.

And still, there was yet more walking to be done. Up stairs and down and around spiraling paths and columns of stone carved somehow to resemble trees until at last he stopped, offered a bow and went on his way. You stood there with the armored men, uncertain for a moment what was to happen or where you should go before women appeared from seemingly nowhere at all and led you with just as gentle and firm holds upon your arms down another flight of stairs and into a small but well furnished room. Your eyes set on the bed at the far end and you left the guidance of the women entirely and nearly floated to it’s edge before sinking into the soft blankets and letting yourself be lost to the world.

When you awoke it was to the soft glow of lantern light, the sweet smell of something floral drifting in the air. You were covered in smooth, soft blankets, so many you were nearly breathless from the heat. Sitting up slowly, you were heartened to realize the weariness and fragile state you’d been in when you’d arrived had passed considerably. An elegant pair of hands handed you a delicate fluted cup of a clear liquid and thinking it was water, you drank it down quickly only to realize it was spirits of some sort. The warmth that spread in your belly was not unpleasant however and gulping hard, you turned to offer thanks. You stopped when you set eyes on the woman in the chair next to the bed, her face exquisite but hard and somehow as unkind as it was beautiful.

“Miruvor.” was all she said and you nodded, not knowing what it meant and too startled to ask.

“Tallis.” you said, surprised at the strength in your voice after such an ordeal.

The woman stared at you for a long moment and you had the thought that perhaps all elves had unreadable faces, for you couldn’t figure her any better than you had the blonde man. Then she rose and began laying out a simple but finely made gown over the chair she’d been sitting in.

“Miruvor is a drink produced by the royal houses, it is not my name…as I assume Tallis is yours. I am Elspeth and as none of my ladies can be spared to attend you, I will have to do so myself.”

Your brow furrowed. You were a commoner and in spite of your wealth, hadn’t a clue what any of that meant.

“I’m sorry?” you ventured cautiously, not sure you wanted to be on this Elspeth’s bad side before you’d even gotten out of bed.

“It is no matter. I tend the housekeeping of His Majesty’s estate, as such caring for visitors falls under my duties and those in my employ. Though I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do for you. Few mortals venture into these woods uninvited and receive this sort of welcome.”

Alarm in your eyes, you shrunk down a bit in the sheets.

“How many have so far?” you asked, not sure the answer mattered one way or the other.

“You’re the first.” she answered, her voice cold as she spun on a heel and left.

Confused, you stared at the closed door for a long while, wondering if the stories of mortal women being abducted by fair folk and never heard from again were true. So far your story wasn’t turning out too different from one or two of the ones you’d enjoyed in your youth. With a wry smile you wondered if when you left hundreds of years would have passed instead of days, or if you’d regain all the years you’d lost amongst the fair folk in an instant and wither to dust. Then, amused by your own lack of common sense(a new development), you rose from the bed and forced yourself to figure out exactly how to put on the dress laying on the chair. It hadn’t been that long, you argued with yourself, fiddling with the ties and doing your best to achieve presentability with no knowledge of elvish fashion. Satisfied at last, you carefully and quietly opened the door and left the room.  
The cavern was much larger than you anticipated and it would seem this place was of the sort you had to live in your entire life to find your way in. It wasn’t half an hour, you were sure, before you had to admit you were lost. Yet wandering was not a frightening thing and although the people weren’t overly friendly, none of them seemed so cold as the woman you’d met that morning. There were even a few who smiled, seemingly brightened by the sight of a human in their midst, but none were willing to speak and you were not brave enough to force the issue.

“Good morning.” a voice said finally, and you turned toward the voice immediately, perhaps a bit too happy that someone at last decided to be friendly.

Your smile faded as you realized the man from before had spoken, his deep voice calm and polite. You hesitated, somehow not knowing what to say. He smiled, waiting or perhaps understanding. Either way, you did your best to will the heat in your face to recede.

“Good morning.” you replied at last, eyes cast downward.

It was ridiculous, you thought, how this place had you entirely out of sorts. You weren’t used to feeling this small or this unsure. You knew your place in the world, certainly, but you’d never been one to be shy. You’d always spoken your mind and exchanged pleasantries easily enough with peasant and lord alike. What made an elf so different? You sucked in a breath, steeling your nerve.

“I wanted to thank you.” you began, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

That same flash of something was there in the icy blue depths, making him seem as young as he seemed infinite. You didn’t like it.

“For helping me. I think you may have saved my life.” you finished, satisfied you’d returned at least some of the courtesy you’d been given.

One of his dark brows twitched.

“I think so too.” he replied, his voice softer somehow.

Great, you thought. Now he was mocking you. Men were the same no matter their race.

“Well then, have a nice day.” you said back, nodding your head and turning to head the opposite direction.

Part of you was disappointed when he let you go without another comment. This was bad, you decided. You were a smart woman. You knew bad news when you saw it, no matter what pretty packaging it came in. It was time to go. But when you expressed as much to Elspeth later that night, you were surprised by the vehemence with which she refused. You were too tired to argue the matter further, it had taken you hours to coax directions back to your room from different passersby and you had a feeling of being watched no matter where you went. The thought of the blonde man seeing you struggle to find your way in his home did not make you feel better.

Still, as you sank into the sheets once more, your dreams were of a lighter sort. You were safe, even if you were trapped. And it was a gilded cage, there were worse spots to be in. It was only when those dreams took a decidedly more illicit turn that you awoke in the middle of the night, damp with sweat and aching for the open air that you dared an escape. It wasn’t much of one as far as escapes went anyway, a return already planned as you snuck from the gates with all the grace and skill of one who’d grown with a widower for a father and a long list of rules you had no intention of following.

The lake was too far a walk to take in the dark of night, you knew. But the sound of running water meant there must be a river or stream close by and soon enough you’d found it. Hiking the silken skirts of your gift dress to your thighs you waded in without care. The water was colder here than it had been at the lake but again, you enjoyed it far more than you would have had it been warm. There was an old saying you could take the girl out of the mountains…and you nearly cringed to find yourself thinking it. Hamblin would have never let you live it down.

Your heart stopped at the thought and grief surged like a wave that nearly knocked you over with it’s weight. Hamblin. His sons, the rest of the men who had volunteered to guide you on your ill advised journey to bring treasure back to the little valley you all called home. It had been so unimportant. Not worth even one of the lives lost, but you’d insisted and they’d all loved you enough to agree. You were to blame for them all. The tears rose and you sank onto a slick rock in the middle of the shallows, head in your hands.

How long you sat there felt incredibly unimportant also, as it was the only vigil some of them were likely to have. You didn’t much believe in a higher power, neither did most of the people you knew. Life was hard for the folk in your valley and prayers rarely felt heard. But you said one now, in spite of your waning belief that some at least had survived and were headed home. You couldn’t handle them all on your head.

“I wasn’t sure you believed in such things after your words the other night.” a voice said suddenly.

Startled, you nearly toppled off your rock, feet plunking clumsily into the water and soaking the hem of your gown. You looked up, not as surprised as you could have been to see the golden hair and bright eyes of the elf who’d rescued you. You offered a weak smile, wiping the tears from your eyes with a sleeve.

“If we keep bumping into one another, we should at least become friends.” you offered with a strangled sort of laugh that sounded more sad than friendly. He either didn’t notice, or did a fine job pretending he hadn’t, smiling and bowing his head in agreement.

“I’m Tallis.”

“It is a pleasure.” he replied, holding a hand out to help you from the water.

Taking his hand, you allowed yourself to be pulled from the knee deep water and onto the relatively dry river bank.

“Do you have a name?” you asked after a long moment of silence, wondering if perhaps names weren’t commonly exchanged amongst the elves.

“Thranduil.” he responded finally, as though the name held some unseen weight.

“I’m glad to have met you Thranduil.” you responded, choosing to forgive and forget your initial meeting having been done in the nude.

He said nothing for another long moment then offered a kind smile that left you weak in the knees.

“I am glad to have met you, Tallis.”

For such innocent words, you found yourself blushing. Embarrassed you looked away, suddenly very interested in wringing the water from your soaked hem. He was standing close, which hadn’t seemed to bother you quite so much earlier in the day but after your dreams, left your pulse quickened and a cold sweat along your spine.

“Good night Thranduil.” you blurted quite suddenly before turning and fleeing back toward the gate you’d taken such care to sneak out of.

The guards let you back inside without a word, as though they’d known you’d be returning. It was not a comforting thought.


End file.
